I'll Find A Way
by Jag013
Summary: In the aftermath of a war between hunters and the werewolves, the unlikely duo, Derek and Stiles eventually find their way to each other. Well, more like Stiles finds his way to Derek... Warning, Sterek!
1. Chapter 1

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**A/N:** As you may know, I kind of have a thing for hurt!Derek comforting!Stiles. The pool scene was a fiesta for me, although I was hoping for a CPR scene. ;)  
Anyway, here is another thing of Derek, Stiles and Deaton. I got a bit carried away. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1:

Stiles doesn't know what to do. He has a dying werewolf next to him, and he wont stop bleeding.

"Derek, come on. Wake up!"

If only it were that easy. Derek isn't waking up, and Stiles is scared shitless that he is already dead.

He's tried shaking him, slapping him, and pretty much everything else. None of it's working.

There's this giant gash through his stomach that's leaking blood like a sieve, and he looks quite dead.

Stiles is freaking out right now. His arms are waving in the air and he feels totally useless.

"Derek! Come on! Don't do this." Stiles puts both hands on Derek's face and slaps him lightly.

Surprisingly, this time Derek's eyes snap open wide and confused. They searched everywhere in a frightened manner, and Stiles realized he couldn't see him.

"Hey, it's just Stiles. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

Derek's eyes seemed to lock with his for a second, only to roll back into his head and shut the next.

"No no no no, Derek! HEY!"

Stiles was shouting now. He slapped the wolf harder this time. It worked again, and Derek's eyes slowly focused on Stiles.

"Okay good, now we need to move. Who knows what else is in these woods."

The wolf just laid there with a dazed, half asleep look on his face.

"Hey dude! You have to stay awake!" Stiles spoke harshly into the lycan's ear.

Derek's eyes on him once more, glassy and bemused.  
Stiles gently cupped Derek's face in his hands and spoke.  
"Hey, Derek. Can you hear me?"

"Mm..."

"Good enough, now we have to get out of here."  
The Wolf's head in his hands was awfully cold. As he looked closer, he noticed that nearly all color had been drained of his face, and his eyes were incredibly unfocused. The wolfs lips and fingernails were also now taking on a blue tint.

"Whoa, dude, don't you go into shock on me."

He then took one of Derek's arms around his neck and positioned him.

Derek put up no effort against him, and was relatively floppy.  
Stiles swore silently under his breath at what he was about to do. He snaked his one arm under Derek's upper back while reaching the other around his legs. As Stiles stood, the one thought that crossed his mind was, "Good god he is heavy."

Stiles was running on pure adrenaline now, carrying 200 pounds of dead weight bridal-style. It wasn't pleasant, although he had to admit, he felt pretty powerful.

As soon as he got to his jeep, his muscles went limp and he dumped the body in the back seat. He ignored the pained groan that followed.

"Derek just hang on for a few more minutes, We'll get some help."

He stripped himself of his red hoodie and draped it around the wolf.

The jeep then sped away from the woods in the direction of the animal clinic, not stopping once.

Deaton laid Derek out on an operating table in the back of the clinic. Stiles felt this whole operation was a little shady. Like, mafia shady.

When Deaton went to check on the wound, even he was shocked by it's severity. The long gash ran from Derek's mid-abdomen all the way to his hip. Which, by the way, was visible. The skin was opened up so much that a good portion of the bone was shining through. And that wasn't even the bad part. The worst part was Stiles now knew what the anatomy of a werewolf looked like. As Deaton inspected the wound, Stiles looked closer and- was that a kidney? Jesus…

He wondered what could have made that thing, and then it hit him. Gerard Argent's sword. Goddamn.

There were also other injuries, like a gash on his head, where the skull around it looked dented.

Or the jagged white bone protruding from where his shin-bone should be. Stiles wondered how that happened, and subconsciously inched closer to that area. As he gave it a closer look, he found several neatly-spaced indentations around the break; almost like a bite but too clean.  
A bear trap. Or, well in Derek's case, an Alpha werewolf trap.

"Is he going to be okay?" Stiles asked with sincerity.  
"I don't know yet." Deaton answered, "But if you come back tomorrow, I might be able to tell you then."

Stiles realized that Deaton meant for him to leave, and allow him to do his magic vet healing thing, so Stiles left.

The next day, He arrived before the office even opened. They had left Derek there, with several I.V. fluids shoved in his arm. Deaton had also stitched up the giant hole in his stomach. Stiles was given a guarantee that he wouldn't wake up, or die. He guessed that the not dying part was good, although the not waking up part now meant that Derek was now officially in a coma.

When Deaton unlocked the door, Stiles rushed inside, and wasn't necessarily pleased with what he found.

Derek looked even worse than he did yesterday. Dark circled had formed under his eyes, his skin clammy, and his lips were pale and chapped.

Deaton came in and checked his vitals. The results were "unfavorable". He shoved a few more I.V. fluids in his arms and told Stiles that he had done all he can. They would have to wait until Derek's vitals were higher before trying to set his leg. Deaton said that setting it may cause him to go into shock again, and possibly die. He also had mentioned something about Derek healing unusually slow before walking out. "Must be another one of  
the Argents tricks."

After a few hours of standing around, Stiles realized how tired he was. He wandered out to the main entrance and found a chair to sleep on. He sprawled out and fell asleep instantly.

A/N: Hey guys! If you liked his, make sure you comment! I have lots of chapters ready…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

**A/N:** Hey guys! Here's another update for you. Please excuse any spelling/grammar errors throughout this story. I have no Beta, and do all the correcting myself. Anyway, like I said before, I have quite a few of updates to come! (Reviews make me very happy and updates will come a lot sooner if you review!)

Derek awoke slowly. Everything hurt. His head throbbed profusely, his stomach was killing him, and he felt completely drained. He opened his eyes slowly, taking a look around. Everything was blurry, but by the way it smelled, he would bet he was at the veterinarian clinic.

Although everything told him to go back to sleep and heal, he still wanted to find someone and ask them how long he had been out. It felt like a long time.

He slowly sat up, using his arms mostly, as using his abdominal muscles would have killed him right then and there. He let out a pained groan as he reached a sitting position. If he thought the pain was bad before, it was now ten times worse.

He looked around again, but black spots dancing around added to the blur in his vision.  
Another groan escaped his lips as his head fell into his hands. It pounded along with his heartbeat, sending waves of dizziness all around.

A new sensation slowly approached him, a feeling in the pit of his stomach different from all the pain. He had just identified it as nausea before turning to the side and expelling the contents of his stomach.  
Unpleasant. And yes, very painful. Then he realized something. His vomit was black. Those fuckers had put wolfsbane on their damn  
weapons.

He coughed weakly and wrapped his arms around his abdomen, hunching over and shivering. How was he so cold, werewolves are supposed to run hot. He had never felt so weak and pathetic in his life. Curling up in a ball and dying seemed like a good plan.

He just sat there for a minute, contemplating if he should try anything else. The first option was fall back and go back to sleep. The second option was to get off his lazy ass and go find someone.  
He figured that he had gotten enough sleep, and option one didn't seem that productive anyway.

Moving to get up, more waves of pain and nausea washed through him. He swallowed dryly and continued. His legs were already off, so he delicately let himself down with his arms. As his legs touched the floor, he thought it was all smooth sailing from there, until he actually put some weight on the one.

Derek let out a sharp yelp of pain as his leg cracked under his weight. He crumpled down, head meeting hard concrete very quickly.

Stiles awoke to a yelp and a loud thump. He and Derek were the only ones here at the moment, so he leapt up and sprinted to the back of the clinic.

What he found was slightly unsettling. It looked as if Derek had woken up, panicked, and then fell off the table, knocking himself out again. Oh beautiful, he had also re-opened some of his stitches.

Stiles rushed over, hands hovering over the unconscious body unsure of what to do. He let one of his hands drift over to the wolfs head and pet it soothingly. "Hey Derek.." He whispered.  
He felt the body sharply inhale, and watched as his eyes slowly blinked open. "It's me, Stiles." He put his other hand on the wolfs shoulder, trying to re-assure him.

It looked as if Derek realized where he was and who he was with, because he let his head fall back letting out a sigh.  
"A little help here!" His voice was all gravely from sleeping so long.

"Uh, sure."  
Stiles hooked his arm under Derek's and attempted to pull him upwards. The action was harsher then he meant it to be, resulting in a pained gasp from his victim.

"Careful!"

"God! Sorry!"

Stiles managed to get Derek halfway standing when the wolf slid his arm around Stiles neck, pulling himself up the rest of the way. Perhaps too quickly, as he drifted over to the side and Stiles had to pull him in to stop both of them from falling.

After they were both relatively balanced, he asked, "Are you okay?" The wolf responded with a death glare.

"Alright then."

They surprisingly made it to the jeep, with Derek using Stiles to support his right leg.

He shoved himself in the passenger side while Stiles ran to the drivers side.

"But seriously dude, what if Deaton's pissed that your gone."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I told you, I don't care. I would have left anyway."

"Yea," Stiles snickered, "You and what army? I'd bet you that if I hadn't come along, you'd still be there out cold on the floor."

Derek huffed in annoyance, but didn't protest.

When they got inside of Stiles house, they were greeted with a massive set of stairs. The stairs on the porch were difficult enough, so it became a mutual agreement that Derek would take the couch.

Derek carefully laid down, paying special attention to his wounded leg. Which, by the way, still had the bone protruding from the skin.

"You know, you should really take care of that. Deaton said he was going to set it today, but we're here now, so..."

Derek was already half-asleep, with his arm over his eyes.

"Just leave it. It'll heal." He muttered.

Stiles stood awkwardly at his side. He didn't believe Derek when he said it would heal, but rather thought that Derek was just too lazy to do anything about it. Stiles decided to take things into his own hands.

Derek had his eyes closed, totally unaware of what was going on around him.  
Stiles took this moment. He took a breath and thought to himself, "Here we go.."

He placed both hands and shoved down on the exposed bone as hard as possible. A sickening wet snap filled his ears. Derek's eyes snapped open and he screamed, his whole body going rigid. He threw his head back into the couch, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut again. Stiles grimaced and looked back at the bone. It was in there, but it still looked mangled in a way.

"Not quite done yet, hang in there buddy."

He took both hands and wrapped them around Derek's leg tightly. He squeezed them hard, and was half satisfied as the bone shifted into place with another crunch. Derek cried out again, his face full of pain and shock.

Stiles stood up abruptly, hands in the air. "Look, I'm done! See?!"

Derek wasn't even looking at him, his body was still stiff and sunken into the couch, with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. He had visibly paled as well, staring upward at nothing.

Stiles recognized that look from earlier and rushed over.

"Don't you dare go into shock on me again." Stiles slid onto the couch next to Derek. "Hey. It's okay."

Derek managed to half glare at him, not able to get any words out.

"Come here." Stiles huffed. He wrapped an arm around the wolfs shoulder and brought him so he was leaning on Stiles.

He could feel Derek shuddering and trying to regulate his breathing. "Hey, it's okay, just take deep breaths." Stiles half hugged the wolf, trying to be reassuring.

After a few minutes of this, Derek finally catches his breath enough to talk.

"I am going to kill you, slowly, and painfully, in the most horrifying way imaginable."

Before Stiles could respond, Derek's eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out cold.

"Well alright then..."

He smiles at the wolfs gentle face. He looks so young and innocent when he's sleeping. He was probably always like that before the fire.  
Stiles slowly let Derek fall back onto the couch and into a pillow. He pulled a thick blanket over him, keeping him warm.

His dad was at a police convention all weekend, and wouldn't be home until Monday. It was Friday night. How very convenient.

Stiles gave one last look at his sleeping wolf before heading up to his room. As soon as he hit the bed, he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: To those who reviewed, you make me so happy. Seriously. I was dancing.**

** And thanks to all who favorited/followed the story and me. You guys are amazing. **

**Chapter 3: **

A few hours later, Stiles awoke from his orgasmic sleep. He listened for something, but it was silent. Something still didn't feel right though.

"Dammit Stiles, it's probably nothing!" He thought to himself.

He tried to go back to sleep, but his mind kept wandering back to Derek.

"Ughh, fine!"

Stiles finally gave in and rolled out of bed to go check on Derek.

He rubbed his face with his hands as he walked down the stairs. He approached the couch and was about to tell himself that he should just go back to his room, when he noticed Derek wasn't there.

His heart skipped a beat. Where would he go? Where could he go… His leg is fucking broken, and he couldn't even walk two steps without Stiles help yesterday. Maybe he healed? No, he couldn't have, not that quickly.

Stiles was about to go and file a missing puppy report when he noticed a light on in the bathroom. The door was cracked open. Stiles silently snuck to the entrance and peered inside. There was Derek, curled on the floor with his head and arm draped over the toilet bowl. He was shaking so badly it could nearly be considered convulsions. Stiles was scared now. He thought Derek just needed time to heal, and he would be almost better in the morning. This really didn't look like progress.

Just as Stiles was about to enter, Derek started coughing again. It turned into a gagging noise, which led him to vomiting. Stiles pressed himself up against the wall, he was nearly going to be sick himself. He wanted to get in there and hug Derek and heal him, but the best he can do is talk.

He lightly knocked in the door.

"Derek, you okay? Can I come in?"

He heard no response, so he lightly pushed the door open. Derek was in a different position now, slumped against the wall, eyes closed.  
Stiles hesitantly approached, and put the back of his hand on Derek's forehead.

"Holy shit dude!" Stiles quickly retracted his hand.

The guy was burning up. Like, a fever of 115.  
Stiles lightly tapped on his cheek.

"Dude, wake up. Stop dying."

The wolf groaned in pain as he cracked an eye open.

"Okay good, now stay awake, I'll be right back."

Stiles raced to the kitchen and opened up the medicine cabinet. He grabbed a bottle of Advil and raced back. Derek hadn't moved an inch, but he was still awake.  
Stiles crouched down beside him and started reading the container.

"Okay, so it says you can one capsule every - Hey!"

Derek grabbed the container, shook out five pills and swallowed them all. Stiles just sat there, twitching and unsure of what to do.  
Derek muttered a 'thanks' before tossing the container back to Stiles.  
Stiles slowly stood, still eying the wolf with curiosity. I guess he learned from past experience that werewolves need to triple dose. Or more...

Stiles set the pills down on the bathroom counter and fetched a cup of water, giving it to Derek.

"So, why aren't you healing?" Stiles asked as he sat down beside him.

"I can't. Gerard laced his sword with a type of wolfsbane."

"Wha- And you didn't think to tell me this earlier!?" Stiles squeaked.

"I was unconscious earlier..." Derek growled back.

"Can you fix it with something like you did last time?"

"No, not with this type. It'll eventually work its way out of my system, but for now all I can do is rest."

Stiles gave him a look. "What do you mean, 'eventually'…"

He received no response.

"Wonderful..."

Stiles looked around awkwardly. He was definitely going to stay with Derek the rest of the night, but he didn't want to stay here, in the bathroom.

"Are you okay now? Wanna go back?"

Derek nodded and moved to get up. Stiles was at his side instantly, supporting his movement.

He wrapped his arm around the wolfs back and let Derek lean on him. Waves of heat radiated off of him. It was almost unbearable.

He helped Derek over to the couch, which he flopped back down on.  
Stiles moved over to an armchair beside the couch and made himself comfortable there.

"What are you doing?" An annoyed voice asked.

"I'm sleeping here. What does it look like."

"Stiles, you don't have to do that, I'm fine."

"Hey, if you stop breathing in your sleep, I don't want to come downstairs tomorrow and find a rotting corpse in my couch. I'm sleeping here."  
As if to prove his point, Stiles shoved himself further into the chair.

Derek rolled his eyes. There was no winning with this kid. He didn't want Stiles worrying so much. He would start healing anytime soon. Hopefully...

Derek winced as he touched his head. There was a definite fracture there, probably the cause of his dizziness and insane headaches. Sleeping probably wasn't the best idea, because Stiles was right about the whole stopping-breathing-in-sleep thing. But what else could he do. What did he even have to live for.

His pack maybe. They hadn't even gone through their first full moon yet. Maybe that's why he turned them. So they could be an anchor for him. His wolf knew what he was planning, so it created a reason for him to be here.

After the fire happened, Derek was reckless, because he really didn't care what happened to him anymore. Laura even noticed it too. That is, before she died.

He could tell she had been worrying about him. And she was right too. He got to the point in life where he seriously conceded offing himself. He wanted to. So desperately he wanted to put a wolfsbane bullet through his brain, but he stayed. He could never do that to Laura. Especially after what he caused. Nobody but himself knew the truth about the fire. Not even Laura. He wanted to tell her. Tell her that he was the one responsible for their entire family burning to death, but he couldn't. He didn't want to lose her too. She would have hated him if she knew, but at least she'd still be alive.

If Laura hadn't come back here, following some lead, trying to play detective. If she hadn't been in the forest that night, she wouldn't have been severed into pieces by Peter. Laura would be alive.

Derek wished Kate had killed him. Before she set the fire. So he wouldn't have to carry this thousand ton burden on his shoulders everywhere he goes. But that was selfish. Which is why he created his pack. He couldn't leave them even if he tried, his wolf wouldn't let him.

He sighed in frustration. Stiles was already sleeping, snoring softly. He was such a good kid.

Derek growled at himself. How could he let someone get this close! This wasn't supposed to happen.

Derek pressed the palm of his hand to the fracture in his skull and clasped down on it viscously. The cracking of bone echoed throughout his head, and he welcomed the pain. He deserved it.

This kid was going to get himself killed if he kept handing around Derek. Same as everybody else. The pack was different. They had a chance of survival. Stiles was just a human. A fragile human.

Derek's hand went limp as his brain shut down. He grunted in annoyance as he realized what was happening. His wolf was preventing him from injuring himself anymore. They were like two different people living inside one body. Derek wanted to go, while the wolf wanted to stay. The stronger one wins.

His eyelids started to sink down as he fell into unconsciousness.

**A/N: O.O Don't worry, he's not dead… yet. **

**To explain the last paragraph, I always thought that inside the werewolf, there were two different people. The human and the wolf. The human would be the dominant one, but the wolf would make an appearance under threat. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's another update for you, enjoy!**

**Chapter 4:**

When Stiles woke up, the first thing he did was check on Derek. He ambled over to the other couch, yawning. Everything looked good so far, but... Stiles bent down to Derek's face. The gash above his eye looked worse. This thing was actually healing yesterday, and now look at it. There was some sort of imprint around it. Bruising.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he placed the palm of his hand lightly on the wound. It was a near perfect fit. The bruise was slightly bigger than Stiles hand.

He did this to himself? Stiles wondered. He thought of Derek as many different things, but suicidal was never one of them. Come to think of it, Stiles never really thought Derek felt feelings. That he was just a killing machine with no soul.

It didn't make any sense though. His family was dead, that was pretty big, but it's not like it was his fault. Kate just went ballistic and set the thing ablaze. Unless... Maybe he had more secrets then he let on. After all, how did Kate even know where all the wolves were. Someone must have slipped.

Asking him about it would be the last thing Stiles would ever want to do with his life. Even with the werewolf incapacitated, he would still somehow manage to claw Stiles throat out.

Stiles sighed. What time was it anyway. He looked over at the clock. 7:26. God dammit.

Stiles decided to call Scott. He'd probably be pissed at him for calling so early, but this was the only time Stiles knew of when Derek's werewolf hearing was turned off.

Scott's cell rang four times before he picked up.

"Mmh, what."

A groggy voice sounded over the other end.

"Hey Scott, it's Stiles."

"Stiles, what the hell?! It's like, 7:30. On a Saturday!"

"Yea, about that. Listen, I really need your help. And before you ask. No, it can't wait."

"..."

"So anyway, remember a few nights ago, when the hunters attacked you guys?"

"...Yea?"

"Well Derek didn't get away so easily."

"What?! I've been looking for him! Is he okay? ...He's not dead or anything... Right?"

"No, well not yet anyways. Gerard cut him up with sword, which so happened to be laced with wolfsbane. Derek said that he would be fine, but it would just take a while to heal."

"Okay, so if he's going to be fine, why are you calling me?" Scott asked hesitantly.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm not sure if he's telling the truth. I think he's dying Scott."

"What do you mean, like, he wants to?"

"No, but I don't think he'll do anything to stop it."

A silence resounded through the phone before Scott answered again.

"I'll ask Deaton at work. He'll probably know something about it. Call you later."

"...Okay..."

Another silence.

"Stiles... He's gonna be fine. Don't worry."

That's the same thing he said, Stiles thought.

"I'm not worrying. Just curious. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Stiles hung up the phone and sighed. What the hell was he going to do.

He looked over at the couch where Derek seemed to be waking up. Stiles made his way over there.

"Hey! How are you feeling?"

He groaned and put a hand over his face, saying nothing.

"Okay then... Are you hungry?"

Derek shook his head, "no" and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"Well, I'm going to get  
some breakfast. I'll be back in a bit."

Stiles left for his jeep. He knew exactly where he was going.

He pulled into the "Beacon Hills Bar and Grill". The thing had been there for over 20 years. Unoriginal name, but Stiles swore it was the best place in the entire state to go for some food. It was also the only place in the entire state open at 7:00 AM.

He ordered two burgers there. Just in case his wolfy companion was hungry. The lady at the counter gave him a funny look told him it would be an extra 10 minute wait, as they had just put fresh burgers on the grill. Stiles didn't mind, he needed to clear his head anyway.

While he waited, a bulletin board caught his eye. It showed the restaurants history way back until when it first opened. He walked over and stared at the pictures. Most of them were of the employees.

Stiles skimmed them, until one caught his eye. It was a photo of one of the bartenders. He seemed to be in his late teen years, maybe still in school. Stiles almost didn't recognize him at first. He was smiling, and actually looked happy.

It was Derek.

It looked as if the photographer had caught him on the job. He was in black and white uniform, probably the employee clothing back then. His hair was grown out a bit, coming over his forehead in black waves.

Stiles turned as noticed an older man walking up to him. He one of the owners.

"You enjoying the photos?"

Stiles smiled and nodded a "yes".

"I took them myself. Been here since the place opened up."

A perfect opportunity was now open for Stiles. He decided to take it.

"Did you know him?" Stiles asked, pointing to the photo of Derek.

The man squinted, leaning forward. After a second of confusion, his face suddenly lit up.

"Aah yes! Derek Hale! A real nice kid. Did you know him?"

"Uhh, yea. I used to." Stiles lied.

The man chuckled. "One of my best workers." His face suddenly contorted into a frown. "It's really a shame about his family though. Such nice people."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles knew exactly what the man meant, but decided to keep prying. He had a gut feeling he was on to something.

"Oh, did you not know about the fire?"

Stiles shook his head innocently.

"Well, some time ago, their house went up in flames. If I remember correctly, there was only one survivor and he's pretty much a vegetable at the long term section of the hospital. Derek and his sister, Laura were at school when it happened. The final lacrosse game was that night."

Stiles nodded slowly, allowing the man to speak more.

"He was so good with all the other employees. Especially this one. They were pretty close from what I could tell."

He pointed to a different photo, and Stiles heart sank all the way down to his feet. Along with his jaw.

In the photo, a beautiful blonde waitress posed for a photo while holding up a tray of food in one hand. That beautiful blonde was none other than Kate Argent.

"Anyway, he quit the next day. I think he and his sister left for somewhere else. Can't blame 'em though..."

Stiles was still shocked at the photo of Kate.

"And what happened to her?" He asked, pointing to Kate.

The man looked as if he was about to answer, but the stopped. Puzzled.

"I actually don't know. One night when she was leaving work, she seemed rather excited about something. I asked her about it, and she said something about having big plans for the night. Then, she just never came back."

Stiles was even more shocked then ever.  
"Let me guess, the night she disappeared was the night the Hale house burned down."

The mad gave stiles an odd look.  
"Well now that you mention it, yes. I think it was."

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes. He had just solved the mystery. "Thank You." He told the man, and walked away to retrieve his order.

"No problem?" The man said. He walked back into the kitchen muttering something about, "kids these days..."

Stiles hastily paid and retreated to his Jeep with the food. Kate had used Derek to kill his family. That cruel bitch!  
No wonder Derek was so untrusting of people.

As Stiles drove home, he had no idea what to do with his new found information. Should he tell Scott? No.  
From what Stiles had found out, he was the only person other than Derek that knew the truth about the fire.

And he decided it should stay that way.

**A/N: Before you ask, in this story, Stiles Stilinski is the type to order a hamburger for breakfast. End of discussion. ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks again to those who've reviewed. (Especially Leo Shakti who is awesome and has reviewed every chapter!) You guys make my day!**

**Chapter 5:**

Stiles arrived home and plopped the bag of food onto Derek's chest. He awoke with a start.

"Sorry." Stiles spoke. He wasn't aware that Derek had been sleeping.  
He groaned and stretched his shoulders.

"I got you some food."  
Stiles nudged the burger closer to the wolf. He abruptly turns away, as if offended by the smell. "Not hungry." He says.

"Wh- How are you not hungry?! You haven't eaten in days!"

Derek gave him this look, that he couldn't possibly ignore.

"Fine." Stiles rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll have two then."

Stiles shoved one of the burgers in his mouth and exaggerated the chewing noise and moans of ecstasy.

Derek huffed in annoyance and closed his eyes again. He was nearly on the verge of sleep when he was interrupted.

"Hey Derek?" Stiles asked with a mouthful if food.

"Mmh."

"Where did you go after you left Beacon Hills."

"...New York."

"Cool." Stiles shoved another chunk of burger in his mouth. He chewed noisily.

"I've never been there. What was it like?"

Derek shifted his head position. "...Loud."

Stiles nodded while still chewing. "Did you like it there?"

Derek's eyes opened and he turned to Stiles. "What is this, 20 questions?!"

Stiles looked at him innocently. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Well I'm trying to heal." He growled as he closed his eyes again.

Stiles raised his hands into the "I surrender" pose. It was obvious Derek didn't want to talk.

He never wanted to talk.

Stiles retrieved his iPod, flopped down on the sofa next to Mr. Sourwolf, and started up a game of Angry birds.

"Die pigfucker!" Stiles whispered as he flung a red bird at the green pigs. He quickly looked around to make sure his Dad wasn't watching. Of course he wasn't, he was at some convention. Stiles giggles softly and continued his game.

In Derek's dream, he was still trying to ignore Stiles and fall asleep.

"Hey Derek..."  
Stiles voice was no longer filled with food, but rather an eerie whisper. Derek ignored it.

"How does it feel to know you killed your family..."

Still dreaming, Derek's eyes snapped open and he shot up.

He was about to flip shit at Stiles, until he looked around.

Stiles body was covered in horrific burns, and his once chocolaty brown eyes were now burnt out sockets.

"It's your fault." He hissed.

Suddenly, the entire room caught fire. Bursts of flames on the floor revealed his deceased family members, all with the same visage as Stiles.

"Why?! How could you do this!" They screamed. The fire raged even more. Derek felt the heat rising on his skin.

Meanwhile, Stiles had just beat a level of angry birds and was moving up when he heard a whimpering noise. He looked up, confused, when he realized it was Derek.

"Hey buddy, you okay there?"

There was no response. Stiles set his iPod down on a table next to him. He got up and went to check on his companion.  
Beads if sweat were forming on Derek's head. Stiles checked, and sure enough, his fever was back.

"Wake up."  
Stiles hissed, poking him in the shoulder. He wasn't waking up.

"This could be a problem..." Stiles thought.

In Derek's dream, things had only gotten worse. Dead-Stiles had shoved his scalding hot arm into the wound on his stomach. His dead family members were now holding him down and screaming something about, "See how you like it!"

One of the werewolves had bitten into his injured leg as well, leaving him shrieking in pain.  
The real world Stiles only heard tiny whimpers.

In the dream, everything just seemed to stop. The fire went out, leaving a charred mess. All of his family members, including his parents collapsed into smoldering skeletons with mouths gaping. It was if they were screaming, although they were burnt beyond recognition.

Stiles was the last to go. He looked sad, as he backed away. "Look at what you did!" He cried out before crumbling into a pile of ash.

The real-world Stiles tried frantically to wake Derek up. He had even gone so far as to slapping him as hard as humanly possible. Still no response. Stiles checked his pulse, and it fluttered madly beneath his fingertips.

He was about to give up, when he heard Derek whispering something.

"... I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Stiles heart nearly broke. He knew exactly what he was dreaming about.  
He bent down to Derek's head and whispered in his ear.

"It's not your fault, Derek. It's okay."  
A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Derek sat stunned in the burnt out home. His entire body hurt with a burning pain, and also an unbearable sadness.  
He then heard a voice behind him.

"Nice work Derek. We make a great team."

There, standing behind him was Kate. She stroked his hair and purred into his ear.

"We should do this more often. You and me."

She giggled. "You see this?" She gestured to the burnt bodies. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks for the help."

The whole room was suddenly ablaze again, and the agonized screams penetrated his eardrums. He heard Kate laughing in the background, and covered his ears with his hands to stop it. His own pained scream echoed through out his mind, when he was hit with a blast of cold.

Derek awoke with a gasp. He was hyperventilating, and Stiles was staring at him like he had just rose from the dead.  
The kid was holding an empty bottle of water in his hand, and Derek realized that his face was drenched in water.

He exhaled quickly and brushed the water off his face.

"Look, I know what happened with the fire, Derek." Stiles spoke.

"Everyone knows what happened. There was a police investigation!" He snapped back.

"No." Stiles said quietly. "I know what really happened."

Derek looked at him with a bit of shock and confusion.

"I know that Kate used you to get to your family, and that's how the fire started."

Derek seemed to physically shrink.

"H- How did you know."

Stiles stared at him. This was not the Derek Hale he had come to know. The person he was looking at right now was afraid. He stared up at him with wide, tear filled eyes. Like a small child.

All of the guilt that had welled up inside him all these years was now visible. This was his true form. No mask or fangs. Just Derek.

"That doesn't matter Derek. Am I the only person that knows this?"

Derek nodded a "yes".

"It'll stay that way, okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, and put a hand over his face.

Stiles came over and sat beside him. "Hey, It's okay. You can talk to me."

Derek snapped. "No, it's not okay Stiles! People are dying, and It's my fault."

Stiles didn't know how to respond to this.

For once in his entire life, Stiles Stilinski was lost for words.

"I should be dead Stiles. Not Laura, not anybody else."

"Don't say that! I know it's hard, but you have me, right?"

Derek just seemed to stare into oblivion.

"I lost someone to you know."

This seemed to catch his attention.

"I lost my mom a few years ago. She had cancer, and..."  
Stiles sniffed. He had never tried to explain this to anyone before.

"I didn't get to say goodbye."

Derek looked at him with empathy. "It's not like that was your fault Stiles, you couldn't have prevented that."

Stiles looked up at him with saddened eyes.

"Everyone says that, but sometimes I think that I caused her so much stress, her body couldn't fight anymore. And that's why she died."

"Stiles, you did nothing wrong. If anything, you were the reason she stayed for as long as she did."

Stiles stared at Derek with tear filled eyes.  
"You think so?"

Derek nodded.  
Stiles let the tears flow down his cheeks. Derek was the last person he would ever think could understand. He would have never told this to Scott, or even his dad.

Stiles crawled on the couch and hugged Derek. His face burying into the wolf's neck.

Derek didn't really know what to do at first. He really wasn't expecting this.

Slowly, he wrapped his arm around Stiles back. The kid was hugging him pretty tight, and he had to admit, it kind of hurt. The sword wound hadn't healed yet.  
Just as he was thinking about that, he felt Stiles back off a little, as if reading his mind.

"Sorry." He whispered.

Derek smiled a little. If this is what he could do to repay Stiles for letting him stay here, then the kid could hug him all he needed. It's not like he planned on going anywhere.

A few minutes later, Stiles was still in the same position, with his arms wrapped around Derek's chest and his head nuzzled into Derek's neck. His breathing had evened out, and Derek realized he was sleeping.

He let his own head rest on the top of Stiles, and he fell asleep soon after.

**A/N: If you need a visual of the final scene, just look at the video they did for the teen choice awards (or whatever it was) So cute!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well hey there reader! The excuse I have for updating this story about a year later, is that I am a lazy ass little shit. Yep, thats pretty much my life. Anyway, my story seemed to be getting some favorites and reviews in the last few weeks, which brought back some inspiration to post the next chapter. Enjoy it you sexy people. ;)**

**Chapter 6:**

Stiles awoke to a beam of sun shining into his face. He yawned, and was about to stretch when he realized where he was. He wasn't in his bed, he was curled up on Derek.

The wolf was still sleeping, with Stiles listening to his heartbeat and the deep, even breathing sounds that echoed throughout his chest.

Derek's head was resting on top of Stiles. It was cute, really. He slowly reached out his foot and grabbed his iPod with his toes.

He passed it along to his hands and took a picture of himself and Derek, posing with a 'thumbs up'.

He sent the picture to Scott, snickering.

Scott replied in a few minutes.

"Haha very funny Stiles."

"I try :3"

"I asked Deaton about the wolfsbane poisoning, and he said to bring Derek to his clinic."

"Alright, thanks Scotty. Will do."

Stiles tossed his iPod aside and focused on the task at hand.  
He nudged at Derek's head. The wolfs face twitched, but nothing else.

"Wake up lazy-ass!" Stiles hissed.

Derek twisted his head, still sleeping, and murmured something.

"Mmrh... hate... squirrels..."

Stiles had to physically restrain himself in order to keep from laughing hysterically.

"Touché buddy... Okay, get off"

Stiles wriggled out from under the Wolfs body. Derek almost fell off the couch before waking up and grabbing part of it.

"Hey, sorry I had to wake you like that, but Deaton wants you back at the clinic. He might have a cure or something."

Derek nodded and stretched his arms. He went to get off the couch, and gingerly tested his leg.

Stiles stood anxiously by his side, waiting to pitch in for assistance. Derek motioned for him to come, and Stiles was by his side instantly.

He took Derek's arm over his shoulder and helped him to stand.

They limped their way over to Stiles jeep and got in.

Deaton was already waiting for them outside the clinic. He looked kind of pissed, but didn't say anything.  
He motioned for them to come inside.

There was an array of herbs and whatnot sprawled over the counters. Deaton was rifling through some of them, and pulled a small jar of liquid out.

Derek was leaning against the wall with Stiles beside him. They gave each other a glance before turning back to the vet.

"I can't say for certain, but I think the type of Wolfsbane they used on you was called Aconitum Reclinatum. Also called White Monkshood. It significantly decreases a werewolves abilities, including healing. It's also very toxic."

Stiles stared at him. "Well that's great to know, Doc. Now can you do anything about it?"

Deaton smiled at the kid. "Possibly, yes." He held up the jar of liquid. "This is a rare form of wolfsbane known as _Aconitum vulparia noir; _or Black Monkshood, if you prefer has been known to neutralize the effects of the White Monkshood."

"Awesome!" Stiles said happily.

Derek stared at him, then back at the vet.  
"What's the catch."

Deaton let out a puff of air. "Well as I did say before, I'm not certain that it is the correct type. If I do give you this, and you have the wrong type of wolfsbane in your system, this could very well kill you."

Stiles and Derek exchanged glances. "What do you suggest?"

"The odds aren't great either way. If I give you this, you could die, but if you wait, you could also die. I can already tell that your wound there is getting infected." Deaton motioned to Derek's abdomen. "I would say that you have a better chance with the Black Monkshood."

Derek nodded. "Then lets do it."

He laid down on the operating table as Deaton prepared the supplies. Stiles just stood there in the corner chewing his thumbnail.

The vet clipped a heart monitor onto the wolfs finger, and the machine attached to it started to beep with his pulse.

Deaton tool a syringe and filled it with the black liquid. Flicking it twice, he turned to Derek. "Ready?"

The wolf huffed. "Just get it over with."

Deaton complied and stuck a vein in Derek's arm with the needle. Pushing down, the Wolfsbane was released into his system.

"Now, tell me if you feel anything different."

It took a moment to get into Dereks system, and he immediately felt the effects.  
The pain seemed to recede in his stomach and his leg.

"I think I actually do feel a bit better."

The pain was completely gone now, but it didn't just stop there. A strange prickling feeling crept through Derek's body, and after a few seconds, he went totally numb.

Just as he was about to mention it, the world started to swim.

"You okay there?"

Deaton looked concerned. Derek's heart monitor started to slow with the beeps. He was trying to nod, 'yes', but couldn't.

"Deaton what's happening?" Stiles asked in a frightened voice.

"Derek you have to answer me!" Deaton shouted.

Derek knew that he was supposed to respond, but he was just too far away to do so.

And in the far off land he was in, he could actually hear his heart monitor flat lining.

**A/N: OMG NOOOO! Don't worry, I didn't put character death in the warnings for a reason… Also, kinda short. Sorry man. **

**Review Review Review! It'll take two seconds and it'll make my day!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's your new chapter. Thanks to all who reviewed, it honestly makes my day! I think this was my favorite chapter to write.**

**Chapter 7:**

Derek awoke to bright light shining down into his face. He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by a beautiful blue sky.

He then realized something. He could feel his body, but there was no pain, or numbness. He felt normal.

Maybe Deaton's drug did work after all.

His hands dug into the ground. It was soft and gritty. Sand?

Sitting up, Derek took in the view in front of him. He was surrounded by pure white sand and the clearest water he had ever seen. It was beautiful. Too beautiful.

"Am I dead?" He wondered out loud.

"Pretty much, yea" A feminine voice came from beside him.

He turned towards the voice. She was sitting in the sand beside him. Her brilliant eyes locked with his as the wind lifted her dark hair in a playful breeze. She smiled at him.

"Hey Derek."

"Laura?"

She nodded, and another voice came from his other side.

"Don't you forget about me!"

This one had one golden hair in messy curls twisted down her back. She had aged quite a bit since the last time Derek had laid eyes on her.

"Mara…"

Their faces brought back thousands of memories back. Laura, the eldest sibling, always beating him in their play fights and Mara cheering him on from the sidelines.

Mara was the only one who hadn't gotten the werewolf gene from their mother. She would often sit out of the way, watching her dark haired family members train in wolf form, wishing she was like them.

Their father would come and sit down beside her, and stroke the golden hair that matched his own.

"Daddy, why can't we be like them?

He would smile at his daughter. Right now, she was young and innocent, but she would grow up to protect the pack in his place.

"Well if we were werewolves too, who would keep Mommy in line?"

She would giggle, and they would watch the wolves together. His wife, their mom, was the Alpha of the Hale pack. She had beautiful dark hair and sparkling green eyes that she gave to her wolf children.

It was a good time back then. Until Kate arrived.

The house had already been burning for hours before he and Laura found it. They were watching the lacrosse game when it happened. Laura's eyes started to glow red, and they both could feel the power of their pack draining. It was the worst feeling Derek had ever felt.

They ran up to the house. Derek heard noise, talking, and he thought maybe somebody had survived. That is, until he saw who was doing the talking.

He saw Kate holding a gun up to Mara's head, who was kneeling on the ground wailing.

"Mara Hale, the girl who runs with wolves!" Kate taunted. "Who's gonna protect you now sweetie?"

They both saw Derek and Laura at the same time.

Mara was shrieking at them to run. Kate just smiled and pulled the trigger.

Mara's head snapped back as the back of her skull blew out. Kate's face was splattered with blood, but she simply smirked and licked it off.

Laura roared and charged at Kate, but the gun was turned to her and a bullet passed through her chest.

She cried out and collapsed.

Derek was too stunned to move. That was, until he registered Kate walking towards him, grinning like a mad woman. She planted a kiss on his cheek before backing up and shooting him too.

He and Laura had healed, but Mara didn't. She just laid there with blood oozing out of the hole in her skull.

They buried her afterwards. The police finding her body would complicate things more than they could handle.  
His last memory of her was her lifeless eyes staring past him as she was buried.

Now, as he stared into those eyes again, they were as blue as the ocean, and framed with long, curling blonde lashes.

"We weren't expecting to see you this early. What happened?" She spoke.

Derek looked at her confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're dead, stupid! This is the place souls go when they die."

"Heaven?"

Laura chuckled. "No, not yet. This is more of a waiting area. The rest of out family has moved on."

"And you haven't?" He asked them both.

Mara shrugged. "We like it here. And we wanted to be the first to see you!"

Derek looked at her. She looked a lot older. The time he last saw her, she was twelve. Now she looked around eighteen.

"I'm so sorry Mara. I caused this."

"This?" She questioned, pointing to her surroundings. "This is pretty damn awesome! I get to hang out here with my big sis and watch over you!"

"But I'm the reason you're dead. That all of you are dead!"

The girls stared at their brother. "It wasn't your fault, Derek."

"Yes it was! I was the one-"

"We know about Kate!" Laura interrupted. "We know that she tricked you into giving up our location. We know Derek! It could have happened to any one of us!"

Derek looked up to her angelic form with tear filled eyes.

"We forgive you."

"All of us." Mara added.

Laura reached out and hugged her little brother.

"Can we go to heaven now?" He asked.

Mara laughed and put her chin on his shoulder. "If you want to, we can." She paused. "But there's a boy back down there that's really hoping you pull through. He's there with a man trying desperately to revive you."

"Stiles?"

"So that's his name." Laura spoke. "We've been watching over you two for a while now. He's a good kid, Derek. He needs someone there to protect him."

Mara suddenly disappeared and re-appeared over by the waters edge. She motioned for Derek to follow.

"Come." Laura said. She took Derek's hand and lead him to the water

"Look."

The water rippled, and started to take the form of something. An image was formed inside.

"He's praying."

Sure enough, in the image, Stiles was kneeling down beside Derek and whispering, with his head in his enclosed hands.

Derek watched as Deaton charged defibrillator paddles on his open chest. They weren't working, even at max power.

"...What's he saying?"

"He says that he would do anything just to hear your voice again. He would give up his life just for you to start over. That you don't deserve all the crap you've taken."

"He just wants his 'sourwolf' back... Whatever that means."  
Mara added.

Derek stared at the touching scene. Tears filled his eyes.

"So what do you say, lil' bro?"  
Laura spoke.  
"It's not too late."

Derek turned to his sisters. "But what about you?"

Mara laughed. "Don't you worry about us. This is paradise!"

"We'll be here when you come back, just don't make it too quick."

Laura reached out and touched Derek's forehead. "Bye for now little brother."

A bright light enveloped his vision and he closed his eyes.

**A/N: So I figured that I would make Derek's father human, just because of reasons. I definitely want to see more of Laura and the rest of the Hale family in the new season. Apparently episode 8 is a flashback episode. Who's excited!?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wah! Hope you guys like this one. I have one more chapter to go. :) Who's excited for Moonday?!**

**Chapter 8**

"He's cold."

That was the only thing Stiles could think of as he retracted his hand from Derek's arm.

The person who he had tried so hard to protect and care for was now lying on the operating table with his mouth slightly parted and his eyes closed.

The distinct low-pitched drone of the heart monitor wasn't helping anyone right now.

He had no pulse, he wasn't breathing, and he was cold.

Stiles was staring into the lifeless eyes of his, imagining how they used to look at him, and he would feel safe. Protected, even though they might have been giving him the hardest death glare imaginable.

And just like his mother, Stiles never got to say goodbye.

Stiles sniffed. A tear slowly made it's way down his cheek and into his mouth. It tasted salty. It reminded him of how the ocean tasted, and how beautiful it was.

He hoped Derek was in a beautiful place now. That he was with his family, hugging them and laughing. Enjoying himself.

He never deserved want happened to him.

When Stiles was snooping through the Hale records a few weeks ago, trying to connect the murders with the fire, he came across Derek's birth record. Stiles had looked at the date when he was born.

November 7, 1991

He was surprised, honestly. That would make Derek was only four years older than him. So young.

Stiles read on. He was born to Talia and Elias Hale inside the Hale house, the second youngest out of four kids. It listed the kids in order. Laura, Samuel, Derek, and Mara.

Stiles sighed as the memory passed through his brain. He would never forget any of this. Sitting down in a chair, he passed a hand through his hair and exhaled, trying not to cry.

Just as he was about to get comfortable, Deaton came rushing back into the room, holding a long syringe filled with a metallic purple liquid.

Stiles eyes widened and he sat upright. "Wh-What are you doing?"

Deaton went up to Derek's body and placed a hand on his chest.  
"Always have a last resort."

He then raised the syringe and stabbed it down through Derek's chest, into his heart.  
He pressed down and the metallic liquid was released.

"Woa.."

Stiles gasped and ran up to the table. Both he and Deaton watched in amazement.

Silver spider veins raced up and down the injection point. They seemed to shimmer and move beneath his skin like magma. They went up his neck and as they passed through his eyes, they opened, glowing a brilliant crimson.

The heart monitor, previously lifeless, now seemed to go wild, beeping like crazy.

Derek's glowing eyes seemed to search around the room crazily, like those of a feral animal. His claws extended as did his teeth, and he growled.

The vet swore under his breath and raced to a supply drawer. He grabbed a sedative and then cautiously approached the alpha.

"Derek, I need you to calm down, okay? I'm not going to hurt you."

Deaton lunged and tried to inject Derek with the sedative, but the alpha jumped up and swiped it away causing it to shatter on the ground. He roared at Deaton, who looked scared out of his mind.

Stiles was terrified at the scene unfolding in front of him. Derek obviously was in some sort of feral protective state. Whatever it was, he was more wolf than human right now.

Stiles watched as he moved to get off the table, presumably to slaughter Deaton.

"Run Stiles!" The vet was yelling.

No. Stiles thought. No more running. He was tired of running from everything.

He approached the wolf with his arms extended at his sides, showing he had no weapons. Derek turned to his and snarled. He looked as if he would tear Stiles apart at any minute.

Stiles walked closer. "Snap out of it Derek! I know you're in there!"

The wolf just hissed at him, and rose to his full height. He was still somewhat favoring the one leg, but that seemed to be the last thing on his mind right now.

Stiles stopped. He and the wolf were now a foot apart. Face-to-face. Stiles was making sure that he presented himself as no threat whatsoever.

The wolf snarled and bared his fangs again. His eyes seemed to glow even redder.

"I'm not afraid of you. I know you're just scared, and I can help."

Stiles then reached out a tentative hand and placed it around the side of Derek's face.

At first, the wolf moved away from the touch, but eventually sank into it.

His red eyes were now locked with Stiles brown ones. A clawed hand gently reached up and placed it upon Stiles arm.

Stiles smiled. "There you are."

Derek's claws and fangs receded back into his human features.  
His eyes were the last to go. They slowly faded back into their original green color as the silver disappeared from his veins.

"Stiles..." He whispered.

The boy pulled him into an embrace. Hugging him.

Stiles noticed the wolf getting weaker, and gently lowered him to his knees. "You're okay now. You're safe."

And with those words, Derek closed his eyes and fell asleep against the boy, sinking into his arms.  
Stiles rubbed his face against Derek's soft black hair. He was crying, but out of happiness.

Derek was alive.

Meanwhile, Deaton looked on in astonishment.

"In all my years with werewolves, I've never seen anything like that. To be able to bring a feral creature like that back to humanity with just a simple touch... That was incredible."

They both lifted Derek back up onto the table. Deaton covered him with a blanked and clipped the heart monitor back on. It provided a low, steady beep.

Stiles pulled up a chair to the operating table and did the best to make himself comfortable. He reached under the blanked and retrieved Derek's hand. He wrapped his own around it before falling asleep against him.

Deaton came in to check on Stiles, and was about to ask him if he was staying the night, but it looked as if he already got his answer. He smiled to himself. That boy really is something special.

He found an extra blanked to drape over Stiles before dimming the lights and finding a makeshift bed for himself.

**A/N: I hope you liked it! I really enjoyed writing this one.** **Also, In case i haven't mentioned this before ;) COMMENTS MAKE MY LIFE**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

**A/N: Final chapter. Maybe. Probably. **

Derek awoke to the stench of the veterinarians clinic and the cold hard metal beneath him. One thing was different about this time though. Through all the pain and the cold, he felt a warm hand wrapped tightly around his own. He turned his head slightly, and took in the view of Stiles sleeping awkwardly in a chair pulled up to the operating table.  
He smiled slightly to himself and gave the hand a squeeze.

"Hmm?" Stiles woke slowly. He looked around blearily until Derek came into his vision.

He was alive.

Stiles instantly became fully awake. He sat foreword with his mouth gaping.

"Hey." He said cautiously.

A small smile formed on Dereks face. "...Hey."

His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was his voice nonetheless. And for Stiles, it was what he had been praying for.

"How are you feeling?"

"...Tired. What happened?"

"What happened...? Well, you died, then Deaton revived you with some other crazy ass form of wolfsbane, then you tried to kill us, and now we're here!"

Derek stared at Stiles. He didn't remember trying to kill them, but the kid was obviously shaken with the events of the previous night. He never intended to cause him so much pain.

"I'm sorry." He turned his head so he was facing the ceiling again.

Stiles sat there shocked. Sorry? Derek was apologizing?

"No, Derek..." Stiles spoke. "I... I'm just glad you're alive." He laughed nervously. "I thought you were dead."

"Well I'm right here, okay? And I won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Stiles nods, and moves the chair he was sitting on closer to the metal table.

"...Have you been here the entire time?"  
Derek asked, sounding suspicious.

Stiles shrugged. "Basically, yea."

Derek smiled again. 'Thanks Stiles."

"…For what?"

"For everything. If it wasn't for you… I'd be dead, Scott would be dead, everyone in this entire town would be dead... Thank you."

Stiles just sat there with his mouth open. He didn't know what to say. Nobody had ever told him anything close to that before. He was naturally a sidekick. He had been one for his entire life.

"You mean, like, I'm a hero?"

Derek nodded, his eyes closing.

Stiles inched closer. "Like Batman?" He anticipated the answer.

"Better than Batman…" Derek said as he drifted back into sleep.

**A/N: Well shit guys, I think that's the end. Hope you all enjoyed! Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I just needed to wrap it up somehow. And please comment, let me know what you think!**


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